Post by astana on Sept 17, 2017 22:56:59 GMT
I was hiking on the San Juan islands whilst looking for snails. I couldn’t find any information at all on what snails inhabit the Islands, so I was going basically going in blind.
My biggest hope was finding a Pacific Sideband snail- Monadenia fidelis. Of course, this would be unlikely, but I’d heard on a blog that someone’s seen a M. fidelis on the islands a few years back.
Although the trail I took was heavily forested in some parts, the weather had been uncharacteristically dry and I couldn’t find ANYTHING. No slugs, no snails, no large insects- my policy went from ‘I’ll only take native snails’ to ‘I’ll take anything, please.’ Besides one empty shell of a garlic snail, there were no signs of mollusk life.
Two hours into the hike, I saw a particularly swirly knot of wood on a rotting log and looked closer.
Recognize it?
The knot of wood was in fact a highly coveted Monadenia fidelis, the Pacific Sideband snail, estivating on the log! I picked it up and combed through the area, found nothing, and decided that this was as good as it was going to get.
The snail, who I’ve christened Mona (pun absolutely intended, when I find another I will name him Fidel), wouldn’t come out of her shell. Despite gently breaking the estivation seal and pouring water on her, she refused to come out. Because of how deep Mona’s mantle was sunk in her shell, I was very worried that the snail was in fact retracted. She remained completely still for a good six hours.
I put her in Lance’s (my Lancetooth snail) old habitat (I moved him to a smaller one, as he hardly moves during the day, seven times smaller, and is hard to find in a larger terrarium) and then rested for the night, leaving out a sprig of lettuce for her to snack on if she came out.
My hopes weren’t very high. Her shell was scuffed and worn, and she appeared very old. There were literal cobwebs on her. In addition, she appeared to be very deeply retracted. I gave her a bath and went to sleep, fully expecting for her to be dead when I woke up.
By morning it turned out that I was wrong!
Pacific Sidebands are my favorite species of North American snail. Their shells, although usually rough and worn, are beautiful (especially when wet), and their skin tends to be an unusual pink/red color. Photos don’t do Mona justice. Especially my terrible phone pictures.
Mona is incredibly slow. Slower than any snail I’ve kept before, including the tiny Bulimulus and Succinea I’ve kept. I’m pretty sure she’s well into her adulthood, though the lip of her shell has apparently chipped off on the front long ago.
Her pink-on-black skin has an interesting, bumpy texture, and she looks almost less ‘slimy’ than most of the snails I’ve kept, mainly because her skin doesn’t retain that same shininess. Nevertheless, she’s a gorgeous snail.
Largest snail native to the Pacific Northwest!
Eating lettuce and mushrooms:
I’ll be going another forest hike in a couple weeks, and hopefully I’ll snag another Monadenia then! There is a chance that Mona is already fertile and carrying eggs, but I’m banking on giving her another Sideband friend either way^^ Wish me luck.
My biggest hope was finding a Pacific Sideband snail- Monadenia fidelis. Of course, this would be unlikely, but I’d heard on a blog that someone’s seen a M. fidelis on the islands a few years back.
Although the trail I took was heavily forested in some parts, the weather had been uncharacteristically dry and I couldn’t find ANYTHING. No slugs, no snails, no large insects- my policy went from ‘I’ll only take native snails’ to ‘I’ll take anything, please.’ Besides one empty shell of a garlic snail, there were no signs of mollusk life.
Two hours into the hike, I saw a particularly swirly knot of wood on a rotting log and looked closer.
Recognize it?
The knot of wood was in fact a highly coveted Monadenia fidelis, the Pacific Sideband snail, estivating on the log! I picked it up and combed through the area, found nothing, and decided that this was as good as it was going to get.
The snail, who I’ve christened Mona (pun absolutely intended, when I find another I will name him Fidel), wouldn’t come out of her shell. Despite gently breaking the estivation seal and pouring water on her, she refused to come out. Because of how deep Mona’s mantle was sunk in her shell, I was very worried that the snail was in fact retracted. She remained completely still for a good six hours.
I put her in Lance’s (my Lancetooth snail) old habitat (I moved him to a smaller one, as he hardly moves during the day, seven times smaller, and is hard to find in a larger terrarium) and then rested for the night, leaving out a sprig of lettuce for her to snack on if she came out.
My hopes weren’t very high. Her shell was scuffed and worn, and she appeared very old. There were literal cobwebs on her. In addition, she appeared to be very deeply retracted. I gave her a bath and went to sleep, fully expecting for her to be dead when I woke up.
By morning it turned out that I was wrong!
Pacific Sidebands are my favorite species of North American snail. Their shells, although usually rough and worn, are beautiful (especially when wet), and their skin tends to be an unusual pink/red color. Photos don’t do Mona justice. Especially my terrible phone pictures.
Mona is incredibly slow. Slower than any snail I’ve kept before, including the tiny Bulimulus and Succinea I’ve kept. I’m pretty sure she’s well into her adulthood, though the lip of her shell has apparently chipped off on the front long ago.
Her pink-on-black skin has an interesting, bumpy texture, and she looks almost less ‘slimy’ than most of the snails I’ve kept, mainly because her skin doesn’t retain that same shininess. Nevertheless, she’s a gorgeous snail.
Largest snail native to the Pacific Northwest!
Eating lettuce and mushrooms:
I’ll be going another forest hike in a couple weeks, and hopefully I’ll snag another Monadenia then! There is a chance that Mona is already fertile and carrying eggs, but I’m banking on giving her another Sideband friend either way^^ Wish me luck.
